Protecting what matters
by Sophia Banks
Summary: He's stubborn, unwilling to change. His eyes are gray this time, his hair is finally ginger but he's dyed it brown…He's different, but the same. The same intelligence and raw energy, but packed into a body that doesn't want to go for him. She wonders if he will ever change his form again, take up his name, and give up on the lost dream of one more Time lord. (Mild RiverxDoctor)


_She practically glides through the halls and up the stairs, a grin spread across her face as though she's just heard a private joke._  
><em>A woman with straight brown hair and professional clothing tries to stop her, but it doesn't take much before she's sitting down again-memory of this woman completely erased.<em>  
><em>The large double doors swing open against the force of her hands, and she sees a familiar figure sitting behind a desk.<em>

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><p>"River."<p>

The way he said her name was so different. Aristocratic, drawling…uncaring. And yet there was a fondness in his voice that speaks to the years they had spent together.  
>She'd seen this from before, but she still looks him over. His eyes are gray this time, his hair is finally ginger but he's puzzlingly dyed it brown. His nose is overlarge, but seems to fit with his face.<br>He lazily looked her over as well, his all-seeing eyes roving over her form in what he had described as observing- but she's quite sure that it's just him checking out her body.

"What are you doing here?" he finally asked, bringing one leg over the other as though he's showing off his legs. This is proven true in her eyes when he raises his chin as well, attempting to form an imposing figure.  
>She smirked, "Hello Sweetie," she walked forwards on high heeled shoes in that same gliding manner until she was directly in front of the desk, "Can't a woman check up on her husband without his questioning why?" she asked smoothly.<br>He frowned, "Technically my dear, you are _not my wife_," he objected, his pale fingers tapping at the arm of his chair.  
>River tried not to choke out some hateful words at that exclamation, if he were like The Doctor she knew before, he wouldn't have said that! He would have said something silly but seductive, and then he would have taken her to a distant planet.<p>

This Doctor just sat there.

"Alright then," she snapped, "deny it if you'd like!" she sat down and crossed her legs in a defiant manner, hands folded onto her lap.  
>He quirked his thin lips into a crooked sort of smile. <em>This Doctor doesn't know how to smile<em>…Shaking away that thought, River Song spoke up, "How is he?"  
>The Doctor sighed in a resigned manner, "Fine," he replied simply, tapping his finger harder against his chair. She could hear his perfectly manicured nail against the leather<em>, tap, tap, tap<em>-it was strangely soothing to her.  
>"Is he still…? Her voice cut off, letting the question hang in the air. He knew what she was asking and he shook his head reflectively, "No, though he's not really changed. Sometimes I wonder if he ever will," he looked at his hand, and stops tapping.<br>River sighed loudly, "I've told you before-treating him as though he is human will do him no good! Show him his heritage, tell him about his family. Show him who he really is! Do something!" she formed her hands into fists.

The Doctor shook his head, "No, I can't… What if I break the illusion and he becomes something I can't control?"  
>"Can you control him now?" River Song cut in sharply.<br>He openly glared at her with stormy gray eyes, the only way anyone could see his age extended beyond his looks, "Even if I can't, the time isn't right yet for him to know…"  
>River found herself looking sympathetically at what she knew was merely a shell of the man she once knew, "You've been here ten years Doctor, and every time I come by it's always <em>the time isn't right<em>. You're killing yourself waiting for this man to become like the rest of your people!"

The Doctor uncrossed his legs and stood up, looking out the window, "This life suits me more," he replied, "Less…running," he wrinkled his nose in distaste.  
>River stood up, laughing lightly at him, "You're kidding yourself sweetie," she cooed, wanting to wrap her arms around him but knowing that if she tried he would probably shrug her off. He snorted softly, "Not about the running, but I will admit I do miss parts of my old life…I don't miss the death, and the loss though," he turned to face her, "Here I feel as though I am making a difference! I'm happy…complete," he corrected.<br>"You've given up your name or rather, _your title, _for this life. I just hope that it makes you feel as _complete _as you say," she reached forwards and grasped his hand in hers, "Doctor…_my_, Doctor," she bit her bottom lip, taking in his blank expression with slight apprehension, "I-"

"Mycroft!"

Two pairs of eyes were forced upon the tall, thin form of Sherlock Holmes.  
>"Sherlock? To what do I owe the pleasure?" drawled Mycroft, shoving his hands into his pockets. She could tell that he had blocked her out from his mind.<br>"I think you know very well why I'm here," the younger of the two (by more than he could ever imagine) spat, "Victor Trevor, does the name ring any bells?"

River Song took this as her cue to leave, as much as she would have liked to stay for the impending argument. She shot The Doctor a look that said "good luck sweetie", before she began to saunter out of the room.  
>She shot one last glance back at the two TimeLords, one, resplendent in a suit, short dark hair that was previously ginger-over one thousand years old, lost, alone…but safe, with a well-paying mysterious job that dealt with Torchwood on occasion, and a safe location where his T.A.R.D.I.S was hidden.<br>The other, practically a child, only thirty some years and completely clueless as to who he truly was. His curly black hair was different from most, but it suited his pale features, his ice blue eyes, and his protruding cheekbones. He was safe as well, but for how long? Having already nearly killed himself with Cocaine, and had taken up catching dangerous criminals as his job.

River Song sighed, they had so many lives, but they didn't know how to live them.

She continued on her path out of Mycroft\The Doctor's office, where the woman she had previously erased the memory of looked confusedly after her.

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><p><strong>1- Apologies for the shortness of this story<strong>

**2- Whenever I see Doctor Who crossovers I'm disappointed by the sheer lack of Mycroft (Love him to pieces) and am confused whenever it turns out that Sherlock ****_is_**** The Doctor. So when this idea came to me, I just had to write it! ;)**

**3- I hope this makes sense, I had some clear ideas when the idea came-but writing it was much different. I also hope that I wrote River Song correctly, I won't lie…I ****_despise _****the character more than I can say! But I still wanted to write her as she is and not some horrible monster as I'm sure some people would with characters they hate.**

**4- Please review! (I will accept constructive criticism, so lay it on me.)**


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